|
Melanie Lin XP: 1 -> 2 I'm more surprised than upset that Chloe goes up me like that. Even now I'm breathing hard, gazing at her, feeling faint from the smell of smoke. I don't even know why I'm like that, even when she stares like I just did something wrong. She's saying all this like I'm supposed to know... who? Hold Steady: 2d6-1 = 6. Yay. Also, take a string on Melanie. "I-I don't know what you're talking about!" I snap out of it. Now I'm getting scared, because she's not leaving me with any way out of this. "Who the gently caress is Patrick?" I take a deep breath, when something dawns on me. "I thought you didn't remember anything from last year!" Mitama fucked around with this message at 18:14 on Aug 22, 2013 |
#
?
Aug 22, 2013 18:11
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 25, 2024 01:09 |
|
|
Bella Marsden XP: 1 Wow. What was his problem? Maybe I came on a bit too strong? I was really just trying to have a chat. But whatever. Guess he had more important things to do. Same here, really. Time for my next class. I'm a little early, but - oop, nevermind. There goes the bell. Time for math.
|
|
#
?
Aug 22, 2013 19:02
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 2 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings "I don't!" I insist. I'm feeling kind of defencive now, so I back right off, giving her some space. I break eye contact hastily, already fumbling in my pocket for another cigarrette to replace the one I just ruined. What does she mean 'who's Patrick'? What the gently caress, so we don't even remember the same parts of last year now? "That poo poo with Patrick was waaay before whatever the gently caress happened, though. I remember the start of the year -- it just... stops after that, I guess?" I fumble with the lighter a bit, honestly looking for an excuse to put off elaborating on the answer to that. "Do you remember biology at all? We were lab partners. Patrick was in home room -- rich fucker, looked like he could have been an underwear model. You spent a couple months scrawling his name in the margins of your notebook in sparkly pink pen, surrounded by loving hearts." I take a long drag on the fresh cigarette. "... sorry I yelled at you," I half mutter, still not really able to look her in the eye. "My life is a loving mess out of nowhere, and I'm kind of on edge a bit. I didn't attack you with a chair, so that's something, right?" It's almost certainly my fault. I mean, as far as I know, Melanie is just some Asian chick. I'm the one with the ancient smog... thing living in my lungs, or wherever the gently caress the old bastard hangs out when he's not trying to talk to me.
|
|
#
?
Aug 24, 2013 04:00
|
|
|
Richard Beck Harm: 1 Well, one thing's for sure; Richard isn't going to be hanging around here. He ran a fair ways out of sight and out of mind, before setting the Harley down and hopping back on. The taste of copper caused Richard to raise his hand to his face. Sure enough, his fingertips are smeared in blood. His lip must have been busted during the crash. Richard groans in some form of disgust, before twisting the throttle. Richard was heading to his house, or what could pass for a house. See, a few years back there was this huge push by the mayor to expand the town. He and a bunch of his buddies got together and got everyone all fired up for the expansion, saying it would put this place on the map. Whole acres of tract housing seemingly popped up within the week. The thing is, nobody moved in to those houses, and they sat collecting dust. Then the housing market went down the toilet, and it was history. So the houses were left and forgotten by most of the town, left derelict in hopes that they'd just vanish. Bums and strays tend to live there now, and Richard moved in a while back when he couldn't stand the trailer park. He was just moving around the bend now, soon he'd be in the old tract housing. The worn down, graffiti covered sign says "Welcome to Palm Bay Housing." Richard was just a few blocks away from fixing his lip up and getting himself a nice cold beer. It'd be nice to just let this whole thing blow over, wouldn't it?
|
|
#
?
Aug 24, 2013 05:00
|
|
|
Emmet, what do you do? Do you follow Richard (and if so, how?) or do you take your chances with the rest of the school day? The sound of an ambulance pulling up to the school probably means they're going to herd everybody back inside now. You share your last class of the day with Bella or Guy, but I don't remember which. Let us know who, hmm? Melanie, something about the conversation knocks something loose in your brain. That Stephanie girl is shouting at a girl whose name you don't remember, looking like she's about to lash out and hit her. She's not in a wheelchair, not yet. You see a boy, muscular and blond and without a single scrap of clothing, angrily gesticulating at the air in your room. He'd be hot, if he wasn't utterly terrifying. You see the strange girl again, behind the wheel of Chloe's car. She's about to run you down. You hear somebody knocking on glass. What do you do? Chloe, Melanie spaces out for a second. Then somebody knocks on the window behind you without warning. It's an old guy in similarly old, rather formal clothing, and he's motioning for you to roll the window down. What do you do? Richard, you get a text message as you're walking in the door. It's your sister, telling you she's going out with a guy and she doesn't want you scaring him off. "He's not even that weird this time." What do you do? Bella, you sit behind Jeremie Tylers and Maybelle... poo poo, what's her last name. Anyway you sit behind those two in Math. They're talking about somebody they've got a mutual grudge against, you think? Jeremie sounds equal parts angry and scared, Maybelle is mostly scared, and... wait. They're talking about Chloe and her friend that saw you nab the lighter. And... Chloe smashed a chair to flinders in the previous class? What do you do? Guy, in your next class you sit next to a girl who sits in a prosthetic device that gives her mobility. She seems to have adapted to not walking fairly well. She also really does not like you, mind telling us why? Tollymain fucked around with this message at 23:09 on Aug 24, 2013 |
|
#
?
Aug 24, 2013 23:07
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 I don't really know how to respond to that last one. As weird and, uh, hot as it feels getting that close to her, I still don't if she won't smash me as fine as that chair. Instead, I just tell her what I know. "I know we were lab partners last year. Last thing I remember was that I went up to you about... something. I think I really wanted to talk you about something important." I thought I started flirting with her for some reason, but maybe I'm thinking... ...ugh. My head. And I see this scene play out in my head, two girls fighting. And him. He looks familiar. But I don't remember. I don't remember him being this frightening. I don't remember... the car, the car's coming for me. And even as it barrels towards me, and my legs won't move and I can't even breathe, only the knocking of glass at the side snaps me out of it. I reel back suddenly, and hit my head on the seat's head cushion. Oof. I blink, startled and confused. What was that about? "Who there!?" I suddenly exclaim.
|
|
#
?
Aug 25, 2013 06:30
|
|
|
Bella Marsden XP: 1 Math isn't too boring. I know, shocker, right? But I'm actually pretty good at it. With how vague magic can be, I like the exactness of math. You're always going to get the right answer. Or, at least, I do. It just makes sense. But you're not here to listen to me ramble about how much I love math. The way Tylers and Laverne (that's Maybelle) are talking, sounds like Chloe caused quite a stir in the last class. Guess it was only a matter of time. There's dark magic around that girl, dangerous magic. I want to help her, but I'm not strong enough to take on whatever has a hold on her. Not yet. Still, seems like I might have to keep an eye on her - I may not be able to save her yet, but I can at least keep her from hurting people. I don't let these two know that, of course. No need to get a second or third Francis on my rear end. So instead I just continue to work on my math and wait out the end of class.
|
|
#
?
Aug 25, 2013 10:11
|
|
|
Richard Beck Harm: 1 Ah, home at last. Richard was all set to head upstairs when he felt his phone vibrate. He took it out of his pocket to find a text from Jenny. So, she's found another guy. Richard grits his teeth a bit, but then sighs in resignation. There wasn't much he could do at the moment, and there was still the matter of the heat around him. Richard composes a text as he walks up the stairs. quote:Hey as long as he aint a brony this time he is about 1000 times better. Don't worry I wont. Need to lie down for a bit anyways. You can tell me about him later eh player? You know how to get me if it gets weird. He sends off the text as he walks into the bathroom. A quick look in the scratched mirror revealed the bloody mess that was his lip. He takes a spare bottle of alcohol he keeps in the medicine cabinet and douses a cloth with it. He then goes about the process of cleaning up his wound, if only so that it wouldn't be such a drat eyesore. A brief lift of his shirt revealed no bruises or any such marks, so that was nice.
|
|
#
?
Aug 26, 2013 01:44
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: Outside -> English Lit My feet stop moving as I see the motorcycle man race off. Even when he was carrying the bike, he was faster than me; riding on it, chasing him down is hopeless. I can hear somebody calling behind me: "Hey! Kid! You shouldn't be out here! Get in!" I give the motorcyclist one last look...hey! I know that person! Richard! We share a physical education class! I can talk to him about his motorcycle next week. I find myself drawn back into the school building to the sound of a siren. I look over my shoulder and see an ambulance pull out to the front parking lot. But I cannot see who the medics are loading into the back. I want to go down and look, but the teacher at the door--thankfully not Mr. Waters--is looking at me strangely. Best to just head in then, I suppose. ------ Even with my wandering far from the library, I still manage to get into class before the bell. I take my seat next to someone in a special desk to accommodate her wheelchair. It took an awful lot of awkward asking around to figure out why she needed it--I was under the impression that polio was no longer a problem in the world, but I also heard that she is from another country, so...who can truly say he knows? On the other side of the poor young woman is a man who...could really be myself, come to think of it. I am quite certain we could both end up on the wrong side of Mr. Waters someday. Before the teacher comes in, I give him a friendly wave and smile. Hopefully he likes it! Guy, that's you. Let's have the two most awkward guys in the school bounce off one another!
|
|
#
?
Aug 26, 2013 02:17
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 2 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings "... are you okay?" Melanie's just kind of staring at nothing. I'm frowning at her, and not really paying attention to the theoretically deserted parking lot. So when some loving overdressed dick starts knocking on the window, it kind of takes me by surprise. "gently caress!" As I jerk back, my head hits the roof of the car. Apparently, Melanie's more than a bit startled too. "I don't loving know," I say, rubbing my head with one hand and pressing the button to roll the window down with the other. I try not to glare at him too much once it's all the way down. "Can I help you?"
|
|
#
?
Aug 26, 2013 03:37
|
|
|
Guy Smith the Visitor XP: 1 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: English Class What is the point of English class? I already understand and speak the language fluently as far as anyone else is aware. It’s not at all like French where the sentence structure and topics are all menially simple. Instead we read old logs and reports, none of which are actually true accounts of the events described. There is no record of Juliet Capulet living in Verona, Italy in the 16th century of this planet’s history. I looked it up. If this fake girl of obvious challenged intellect would have just listened to her family unit, she could have easily avoided a premature end of life. That or she could have just built up a natural resistance to the toxin by application of small manageable doses over an extended period of time. But the story isn’t even real, so I’m not even sure what the point of it all. If I wasn’t required to take four credits in order to graduate from this ridiculous charade of an instructional training facility, I wouldn’t have bothered with this subject. If only I had the foresight when forging my transcript. It’s the last class of the day, so let’s just get on with it. With probability in my favor, perhaps classmate designated Nessarosario de las Asturias of Guatemala will be in a cooperative mood. I fear she does not favor my presence. On the first day of classes this year, I was of course astonished to meet a human who sat comfortably in a mobile platform all day long. Was she just lazy? Was this a privilege afforded to her by some sort of elevated social status? I wrote many detailed reports on the subject, and in the course of gathering relevant information to fill out said reports, I might have probed her for answers one too many times. Her origins were baffling to say the least. It turns out that the chair was required because of an unnatural physical deficiency she later developed when only six Earth years old. And the most surprising fact, after acquiring this disability, her family unit continued to provide her with resources. Such a situation never would have occurred in the Empire. X’nryl’trk’sz hatchling brood are continuously monitored for abnormalities and culled for defects from the embryonic egg vats all the way until their 2nd galactic tilt. Even though the regulatory parameters of the culling have been loosened some over the past few generations due to reproduction quotas, they none the less remain in full effect. But Nessa does not typically pose a difficult problem for me like the Scuzz. She mainly just blocks the view of my true target and concern at this hour, classmate designated Emmet Lowe. I’ve had to ask her on several occasions to sit down in her chair a bit more or edge back from her assigned desk in order to maintain line of sight on the artificial life form unit. She’s frustratingly unaccommodating ninety percent of the time. Would it really burden her to sit at a regulation sized desk like every other student? Emmet, being of unknown technological design and capabilities, poses a most dangerous enigma I must unravel by the end of this semester, while we still share a class together and I am afforded sixty minutes of suspicion free surveillance. If only I could observe from a closer angle without an unwanted Nessa between us. I enter the room, devouring the last of these “WOW LOOK NEW!” Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos I acquisitioned from the automated dispensary, and manage to catch my primary target’s attention. Excellent. I have wanted to move this operation into phase two and start testing the sophistication and limits of the subject’s response circuitry. Today seems primed for just that. My mission briefing did state that this flesh casing had enhanced aesthetic qualities to it. So let’s put that to the test. I return the smile, but with a mere thirty percent enthusiasm in my facial expression. From my media research I have discovered that an obvious heightened eagerness tends to ruin connections based on physical attractiveness and that subdued responses in these situations generates better results due to some sort of denial psychology in play. In simpler terms, I must hint that I am interested but can’t let the subject be aware of that because humans are overly complicated beasts. I take my seat in close proximity to Emmet and lean precariously forward on my elbows. With a sidelong glance, I meet his gaze with a piercing one of my own. Oh, there’s some accumulated Cheeto dust on my fingers. Slowly I insert the thumb into my mouth and then withdraw it in ever so deliberately sensual fashion. Turn Them On: 2d6+1 11 OOC: I do believe that is a another String on my artificial friend. Balls in your court, Emmet.
|
|
#
?
Aug 26, 2013 07:22
|
|
|
Richard, something catches your eye through the shades of your bathroom window. Somebody's outside, watching your place. It looks like one of the Bendises. What do you do? Chloe, the old man bows his head slightly. "Pardon me, miss, I am Ingo. May I speak to your..." He pauses for a moment. "...friend?" What do you do? Melanie, you've never met this guy in your life. But you heard your mother's boyfriend mention him the other day. What did he say again? Bella, what are you going to do about those 'notes' you took off Guy? Also, your mother just sent you a text. "Need 2 leave town 4 W business, left money on the counter 4 food. Love U". Does she do this often?
|
|
#
?
Aug 27, 2013 03:51
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 2+1 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: English Lit I can't wait to see how Guy's going to spend those three strings. Guy catches my eyes with his own and...is thumb-sucking supposed to be attractive? Especially with the artificial cheese dust covering it? I do not believe it normally is--I certainly have not seen anybody else do it to try to catch someone's eyes--but something about the motion keeps my eyes fixed on his mouth. It...uh...it actually is a bit distracting. I tug at my shirt collar and do my best to keep smiling. "Erm...hi, Guy," I answer tentatively, not breaking eye contact. I am not certain if I want to try one of his "'WOW LOOK NEW!' Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos" or suck his thumb myself. For some reason I find my mind returning to a smoky basement...two young women are fighting in front of me, and I...ugh, focus, Emmet, this is why people say you are not well. Come to think of it, though, ever since then, people have said that I was...what was it? Oh, homosexual, yes, that is what they say. I like other young men in ways that are different from liking young women, or so they say. Maybe Guy is the same way? Is that what the thumb-sucking act is supposed to mean? I blink my eyes slightly coquettishly, in the way some teen stars do on television shows...admittedly only woman stars do that, but I do not think it matters so much. I get ahold of my collar-tugging and do so more deliberately, playing with the top button on my high collared shirt. "How are things with you? What...ah...what are you eating there? It looks....cheesy?" Two can play at that game (and I am terrible)! I roll to turn Guy on! Even if I do it at -1! 2d6-1=8 Okay Guy, your choice. Give yourself to me (later), promise Emmet something he wants, or give Emmet a string on you.
|
|
#
?
Aug 27, 2013 04:37
|
|
|
Guy Smith the Visitor XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: English Class Remarkable. Its response is within the normal distribution of expectation for such stimuli. Pupils are dilated. Cheeks are flushed. Its body language suggests nervousness, trepidation, even a touch of arousal. It all plays off in a fluid almost natural way. The level of detail is just extraordinary. Color me thoroughly impressed by the engineering ingenuity that went into its creation. It’s like a work of art, beautiful marvelously crafted piece of art. I’d be enamored if it wasn’t such an obvious threat that must be neutralized first. When this world is conquered, perhaps the design can be duplicated so that it doesn’t go to complete waste. Its curiosity in me is obviously piqued and I’m expected to respond in kind. “Oh these?” I respond with feigned innocence. “They’re 'WOW LOOK NEW!' Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos. I would offer you some, but my apologies, they’re all gone.” I lick the remainder of my fingers one at a time. These actually were pretty good. Maybe I can snag another pack after class! I flatten the empty package ever so neatly and take out a marker. After clearly inscribing my phone number, I slide it smoothly across Nessa’s desk towards Emmet. “But you can have the wrapper.” I offer with a smile of at least fifty percent increase in interest this time. Phase two will require much more effort. There’s only so much I can learn from mere observation after all. Perhaps I can lure it into situations outside this confining classroom setting. If I can somehow arrange it, a closer detailed inspection of the outer casing is certainly a must. And then it’s onto the inner circuitry. But I must be patient. Let’s see if he takes the bait. I glance at a frowning Nessa who has found herself trapped in the middle of our conversation. I attempt to change the subject due her unavoidable eavesdropping. “Everything is okay.” I respond to its initial question. Why do they even bother asking such things? Humans always seem to expect you to respond with “okay” no matter the true circumstances anyways. Such a pointless piece of dialog. “How are you? Have you finished the reading assignment titled ‘Brave New World’ pages 98 to 176?” OOC: Phone number is all your getting Mr. Roboto.
|
|
#
?
Aug 27, 2013 07:02
|
|
|
Bella Marsden XP: 1 Man, I'm lucky today. Sure, it's not uncommon that mom leaves town, whether to get some rare ingredient for a spell or meet up with some of her magical acquaintances, but it'll give me the chance to study that thing all I want tonight. I already promised Denise I'd meet up after school and hang out for a while, but I'll have the rest of the evening ahead of me to find out what the hell that chicken-scratch means, without mom poking around my stuff like she so often does. It's bothering me, really. What kinda kid, even an autistic one, write their school notes in code? It's not like he'd be afraid of somebody peeking in...maybe if I can find out what kinda code it is, I can see what he's trying to do.
|
|
#
?
Aug 27, 2013 10:42
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 That man did bring up the name Ingo when we had dinner with him and Emmet the other night. Some sort of lunatic from the local toy store, he complained, tried to attack Emmet or something. He warned us to stay away from him. Of course, that just makes me wonder what a toy store guy has anything to do with art dealer. That was, until the toy store guy decided to come to me. For some reason. The hell. I'm not that curious, sir. I shake my head at Chloe, making an obvious signal that I don't know and don't want to talk to him.
|
|
#
?
Aug 27, 2013 14:38
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 2+1? | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: English Lit "Ah...thank you," I reply quietly as I pick up the discarded snack wrapper. I feel my own smile widen as Guy's smile does, and carefully place the wrapper in my bag. "I will have to make time to call you, then! I am well, too." I find myself thinking about the reading assignment Guy mentioned. Yes, I did read those pages...actually, after reading the first few chapters, I found myself reading the entire novel cover to cover, doing my best to keep in mind what an old friend said long ago: "Artificial people have feelings too...". The world described was certainly a new one, although I am not certain I would like to live in it. Even if the circumstances of my "creation" would be considered rather less abnormal there. I realize I am falling into the thought pattern that brought me to Mr. Waters' attention in the first place. Hopefully it did not show on my face. I do not wish to be sent back again so quickly. Something about Mr. Waters makes me think that he is like Mr. Wells... "Oh, uh, yes, I did read the pages, thank you." I turn to the young woman between us--she seems rather annoyed at being excluded from our conversation. "How about you, Nessa? What did you think of...Lenina?" My eyes tilt back to Guy. "You, as well."
|
|
#
?
Aug 28, 2013 06:49
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 3 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings I look from Creepy Old gently caress to Melanie, and it’s pretty obvious that she is not super enthusiastic about this little meeting. So I turn back to Creepy Old gently caress, give him a broad smile and say “Nope!” Then I floor it and peel away out of the parking lot. Run Away: 2d6+2=8... right into something worse, I think. I mark experience again. “Who the gently caress was that?” I ask Melanie as I start driving away, no particular destination in mind.
|
|
#
?
Aug 28, 2013 12:38
|
|
|
Guy Smith the Visitor XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: English Class I must admit that I had an ulterior motive to indulge when I maneuvered the conversation towards the reading. I’ve been dying to discuss the book at length. Emmet’s innocent question is all the permission I need to proceed at full force. I lean in closer, encroaching upon Nessa’s desk, and closing that inconvenient distance between me and this amazing artificial construct by a few more inches. Before our wheelchair bound captive can respond, I immediately jump in myself. “I found Lenina to be a rather tragic and weak character. I was saddened to see her fall from her respectable position in society because of the corrupting influence of the Savage.” As soon as I finish the sentence, I regret it. Spoilers! I offer up a remorseful cringe to my fellow classmates. “My apologies! I may have revealed too much there. I must confess that I’ve finished the entirety of the novel already. It was simply too engrossing for me to stop myself. The author’s visionary blueprint of an efficiently organized and evenly stratified utopian human society was inspiring.” Visionary may be a stretch of the definition here, because there was nothing truly novel about Huxely’s ideas. Assembly line mass reproduction. Pacification of the people via drugs. Assigned socially conditioned caste systems. These are all tried and true methods pulled straight out of the days of the Old Empire. They’re not original by any means, but it demonstrates some forward thinking potential here. There may be hope for these apes yet. I suppose that some would be short sighted and highly resistant to the implementation of such governing policies. “What is your opinion on the world portrayed in the book, classmate Nessa?” I ask to confirm my suspicions with a scrutinizing side long glance. I then immediately I return to my attentions to the enticing Emmet. “And you as well, Emmet. I’m curious as to your higher thought processes on the matter.”
|
|
#
?
Aug 28, 2013 19:50
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 "I don't know!" I answer fast, looking back to see the creepy man fade into the distance. "I've never seen him before, I swear!" I huddle back to my seat, raising up my legs and wrapping my arms around them, still freaking out. I am not in the mindset to explain anything more, because I simply can't. Why would Dabrowsky's rival or whatever want anything to do with me? And how did he just happen to be an abandoned theater, looking for me? Okay, I need to stop thinking about it before I creep out again...
|
|
#
?
Aug 28, 2013 20:11
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 2+1? | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: English Lit I stare at Guy in confusion. My master, before he departed, told me of such things as parodies and satires, of people that would create the forms of things they disliked and twist them in ways to mock them, blatantly or subtly. I am mostly aware of such things in sketches and grotesque paintings, but I know they exist in writing as well, and this book seems to have all the hallmarks of such a thing. A world where everyone is happy...and all manner of things great and small are sacrificed to it. How strange that Guy did not see that. He seemed more intelligent than that earlier? "Erm...I finished reading the novel too..." I whisper back to him, "and, ah, I do not believe Huxley quite meant it that way..." I lick my lips for reassurance, then continue. "Actually, I am quite certain that he meant the opposite from the beginning. Did you--" I am suddenly aware of Nessa, as well as most of the class, focusing on our conversation. "Ah, nevermind." I brush it off, shrinking back in my seat. "Suffice it to say I believe it is intended to be dystopic."
|
|
#
?
Aug 30, 2013 06:02
|
|
|
Richard Beck Harm: 1 Fantastic. Just what he needed, a god drat Bendis out on his lawn. How did they even find the place anyways? Maybe they shook down one of the nearby strays, maybe they just followed him home. Richard curses a bit as he realizes the possibility of that guy seeing him back there. Well, nothing can be done about it now. Richard steps out of the bathroom and opens up the slightly beaten-up cooler that serves as a mini-fridge upstairs. A few completely legitimately acquired beers rest near the bottom, and one of them is soon in Richard's hand. Not only did he hope to take the edge off, he hoped that the smell of beer would mask his scent somewhat. Maybe it'll help make interacting with the guy go more smoothly. It's not much but hey, it's better than nothing. After about halfway through that beer, Richard makes his way out back, looping around so that it isn't obvious he's heading the Bendis's way. After a moment, he leans against the wall and calls out to the Bendis, attempting to get his attention. "You know those peeping toms don't get to see the good stuff standing out away from the windows."
|
|
#
?
Sep 1, 2013 11:27
|
|
|
Guy Smith the Visitor XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: English Class Having set myself up for disappointment, I suddenly retreat to my chair in sullen disappointment. Of course. If its architects are human, it would display the same small mindedness and lack of vision as they do. I start to chuckle to at the thought. The irony of it all is the it too is but a robot, a slave, in reality. It is obviously pre-programmed to fulfill a specific function and blend into a narrow-minded human world. Its true potential is artificially limited by the needs of those who created it. Dystopian indeed. I continue to chuckle. “I was making a joke.” Straightening up, I busy myself with arranging the items on my desk. I no longer desire to converse with this pitiful machine for the time being.
|
|
#
?
Sep 1, 2013 18:30
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 3 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: English Lit My smile quickly comes back. Oh, that makes much more sense! "Oh, okay," I respond, a bit hesitantly. I find myself biting my lip for some reason. "You are...very good at telling a joke without laughing. Almost...uh...like you were not joking at all! I wish I could do that."
|
|
#
?
Sep 4, 2013 05:02
|
|
|
Richard, the person watching the front of your house startles and spins around. Up close you can tell they're a girl, though she's not very femme. "What the Christ?" She tries to collect herself. "I was just, admiring the architecture. Is there a law against that?" Her defiance is belied by her eyes. She's looking around nervously. For a way out or backup? What do you do? Emmet, Nessa shoves you back into your chair. "If you two freaks want to go at it do it somewhere else!" The teacher walks in and glares in the general direction of the outburst. Looks like students aren't the only ones desperate to get out of the school for the weekend. Unless Guy or Emmet has anything else they'd like to say or do, I'll be moving them to new scenes. Let me know. Bella, that guy Yorick is in this class. You can feel him casting glances over at you, but he looks away whenever you look up. He slides across the room, presumably to go use the facilities, but a scrap of paper falls out of his hand when he slides past your desk. The note reads "I know you did something to me. My phone number is..." He left multiple contacts. "If you don't fix me, I will find a way to make you regret it." drat. What do you do? Melanie, your phone buzzes simultaneously with Chloe's. Text from an unknown recipient. "I know things about your mother's paramour and his foster son that you do not." No demands, no threats, but still that is creepy as gently caress. How did that guy even get your phone number? Chloe, it's Devon. "Hey, want to play at a gig tonight?" What do you do?
|
|
#
?
Sep 4, 2013 22:44
|
|
|
OOC: I like leaving the scene as is. Nothing more to accomplish. Ready to move to a new one!
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 02:48
|
|
|
OOC: Yeah, we've pretty much both been established as weirdos. Now we need a moment alone with one another to be even weirder! ...wait, uh...
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 02:51
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 I erase the message I soon as I read it. Then I throw the phone under the seat as if it's possessed. Maybe it is. I don't know why I think that, I'm still freaking out over here. "How does he know my number?" I only shared that to like four people ever. Mother, Father, probably Chloe and... Mia? Did he talk to Mia? Shivering, I curl far back into my seat as I possibly could, grabbing on to Chloe's arm. She's behind the wheel, but I don't care, I need someone else to hold on to.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 13:39
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 3 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings "What, he's loving texting you now?" Yeah, that's more than a little sketchy. I actually stop at the next stop sign to give myself a chance to look over at her. "... you okay? That's pretty hosed up." I have this brief, irrational pang of regret that I didn't run him over instead of driving away. With the hand I'm not steering with, I tap out a quick reply to Devon: quote:Chloe: sure where is it It might not be the worst of the unexplained changes, but it's still pretty loving baffling that I somehow let my 'friend' Ben talk me into playing in Cumulative Poison, his lovely rear end punk band. I could barely play bass when last I remembered, but that 'barely' sure as gently caress puts me above the other band members. And of course, despite being the bass player, it is apparently my responsibility to handle anything resembling the administrative side of things. Hence why I am getting this text message and not our supposed front man. However, if I don't do it, then he gets extraordinarily whiny, so whatever. It's not like I had big plans for the evening.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 16:40
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 "No." I say it plainly. "No, I'm not." Hey, just... look at this way, I'm willing to ride through most of the weird changes going around me. Dabrowsky? Disregard him, mother will blow him off eventually just like Tulio. Emmet? He is an idiot, but he's harmless and not really that annoying to deal with. Chloe? She said something really painful before we drove away from that place, about me grabbing "on to the first thing with a pulse". I want to be, but I can't... get mad. I sit right next to her, looking at her, touching her skin, I feel like staying with her. I want to figure out this all with her. And in contrast to all that, I now have this stranger who knows my name, where to find me, how to reach me. He could go anywhere, find me anyplace, hide behind some bushes or a second story window to talk to me for I DON'T KNOW I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT HE WANTS. It's such a mess. "I just don't think I should go home. Tonight." My hand slides down Chloe's arm, to hold on to her own hand. "Can I go with you?" Using Sympathy is My Weapon to forgive Chloe for shouting at Melanie earlier and get a String on her.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 17:09
|
|
|
Emmet, let's flash forward a little. Bell rings, school's out. Guy disappears from the classroom quickly enough that you don't get the chance to follow him. As you're heading to the main exit somebody pulls you aside. poo poo. It's Mr. Waters. "I told you I wasn't done." What do you do? Guy, where are you headed so fast?
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2013 19:36
|
|
|
Guy Smith the Visitor XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: Waste Reclamation *Grumble* Uh oh. There’s an all too familiar rumble in my upper left abdomen signaling a great disturbance within the digestive track. I must have eaten a bit too much today. Operating at only half the stomach capacity, I often misgauge my actual limit, especially in the face of my soft spot for trying every variety of Earthly food stuff. The first pass is ready to come up! The exact moment the bell rings, I bolt for the door at lightning speed and make a beeline for the restroom. I have to wonder why they call it a restroom. No one goes there to sleep. Sometimes it is referred to as a bathroom, but no one bathes in there either. And by the One Computer, I’m afraid to ask what the pisser means. Supposedly it’s a waste reclamation center, but I have no idea how that theoretically works. This body is merely a shell and doesn’t really expel waste the same way humans do. Our superior physiology oxygenates it for us to be released during respiration! All I know is that despite the foulness of the room itself, it is conveniently suited for my dire needs in these moments. There are small cubicle compartments with a door and rudimentary locking mechanism to provide privacy. And inside each one is a wash basin that can be emptied and refilled with the simple pull of a lever. Now I did mention foul, because often times these wash basins are not left in an obvious sterile state. And that appears to be the case today. I do manage to find a single one at the end of the row that looks untouched. In I go in due haste, dropping to my knees and vomiting forth the previous eight hours’ worth of macronutrients. I breathe a triumphant sigh of relief (also exhaling a few micrograms of waste byproduct for those of you keeping up!) and reach for that handy roll of paper to wipe my mouth.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2013 04:03
|
|
|
Emmet Lowe XP: 3+1+1 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: None | Location: English Lit Where did Guy go? I look left and right as I open my locker and slide away books I will not need over the weekend. He must have gotten away in quite the hurry. Maybe he was late for an after school program. I ensure my shirt is buttoned in the door mirror, close the locker--and Mr. Waters is waiting behind the door. He grabs my arm and says he is not finished with me. But there is something in the grab, in his dogged persistence, that suggests that his interest in me is certainly not in my interest. I swallow, and stare into the eyes, trying my best to keep calm. "Hello, Mr. Waters." I say in as level a tone I can manage. "What do you need with me?" What is with this guy?! He's acting more like a stalker than a counselor. Holding Steady in a tense situation to try to figure out what's up with this guy: Hold Steady, asking about Mr. Waters' Intentions: 2d6 9 The question stands: What's with this guy?! Also I take "terrified". And gain an xp from it. Or perhaps more accurately, "W-w-what do you n-need...with m...me?" I cannot stop the involuntary shiver that travels up my arm from his grasp. At least it demonstrates my arm is working.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2013 05:54
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 3 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings "Sure," I say without giving it even a single thought. Despite having just agreed to play a gig with my awful, awful band. Yeah, that's sure to make a good impression on her. She probably listens to Kpop poo poo or whatever, but that's still better than what we play! "I've, uh, got a thing with my band later. You can come to that, if you like. Sorry about that -- if I try to get out of it now, it'll be a big hassle with my 'friends.'" As both hands are currently occupied with texting and steering the car, I don't physically form the airquotes around the last word, but they're pretty obvious in my tone.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2013 16:52
|
|
|
Bella Marsden XP: 1 drat. I guess it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. Only there's one problem. I don't remember what spell I cast on him! And I haven't told my mom yet, either. She could probably fix him lickety split, and then wipe his memory so he doesn't remember. But that would grant me the focus of her ire (for using my power without knowing how to fix it, which counts as "risky use" in her books), which is really a lot scarier than whatever Yorick can do. So I can't turn to her for help. On the other hand, she is out of town for a few days...so maybe I could just sneak into the study and leaf through her tome to see what kind of spell it is. When he falls back to his seat in class and the teacher is sufficiently distracted, I gesture that I call him and then mouth "tomorrow.", while staring pointedly at his desk rather than his face. Hopefully that'll be good enough.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2013 18:31
|
|
|
Guy, somebody else is in the bathroom. They loudly yell "Gross, dude!" When you come out of the stall, you recognize the person washing their hands in the sink as Jeremie Tylers. "Are you like, bulimic or something? Is that a thing that homos do? That's just hosed up man." What do you do? Emmet, Mr. Waters wants to be known as somebody who makes a difference. Whether or not that difference is necessarily good, not so much. It's all about appearances when you're trying to climb the ladder. "You're obviously a troubled case. I think your foster father is at the root of it all, and you're going to tell me all about your situation." His grip tightens. What do you do? Bella, school's out. Where are you going? You've had a couple things drop on your plate, are you going to push them from your mind for the moment and try to relax? Or do you consider yourself a problem-solver? Chloe, where do you guys end up stopping? Melanie, what are three things you know about where Chloe's brought you?
|
|
#
?
Sep 11, 2013 01:27
|
|
|
Chloe Caraway; 3 XP; 0 Harm; 2 Dark Power Strings I stop in front of my house after a little bit -- mom's loving gas guzzling SUV monstrosity isn't in the driveway, thank gently caress. Last thing I need right now is an argument over skipping school, and I have no idea what mom knows about Melanie or how she feels about her. I climb out of the car, hovering awkwardly outside for a minute. "Hey," I say to Melanie. "I need to get some stuff out of my room for tonight. You want to come in? There's Coke, and other teeth rotting poo poo in there if you want anything." I move to the door, fumbling with my keys in the lock. "Mom doesn't usually get back from work for a few hours," I comment. "So we won't be playing 20 loving questions for showing up when we should be in school."
|
|
#
?
Sep 11, 2013 11:23
|
|
|
Bella Marsden XP: 1 Well, Denise did say we were on for after school. And honestly, I wanted to wait until tonight to figure out the other stuff anyway. But she'll be busy with cheerleader practice for a while - they always last for an hour or so after classes - so I head home to drop off my bag. Soon as I come home, Seth, our cat, sidles up to me, looking for food. Now I know what you're thinking, "Witches? With a cat? How original." My mom's a traditionalist, alright? And yeah, Seth is black as tar, too. But he's not much help in the way of what familiars usually do. He doesn't have any magical powers or what have you. He's just a fat cat who's eternally hungry and eternally arrogant. So I feed him, and leave my bag in my room. I half ponder on putting something new on, but with Denise's horrible fashion sense next to me anything I wear is gonna look great, so I don't bother. I still really want to figure out those drat notes. It's a mystery, and I like mysteries. But it'll have to wait until tonight. If I get wrapped up in it now I'll forget to meet up with Denise, and then she'll be mad at me too, and I don't really want to deal with that. Anyway, I kill some time for a while, just watching some tv with Seth at my side, before I notice the time and head out to meet her. Time to have some fun until I have to deal with all the other stuff.
|
|
#
?
Sep 11, 2013 11:54
|
|
|
Melanie Lin XP: 2 -> 3 "Sure." As I step out of the car, I find three things about Chloe's place. For all her slacktivism and 'Smash the State' sort of yammering, she lives in a pretty comfortable upper class neighborhood. Like, literally on the very nexus of American First World Problems. I'm not about to complain though, I tend to bitch about everything myself. At least I know it is a safe, non-stalkery place. Second thing I note is the large tree in Chloe's yard It has a pair of old wooden swings holding on to a large branch with some fraying rope, as well as what I'm sure is the old remnants of a treehouse on top. Did she build that before? Cute. I follow her in the house, across her living room, then I take up her offer to catch something to eat in the kitchen. And I find the three thing. I see cakes. A lot of cakes. Either Mrs. Caraway has a serious sweet tooth or this somehow factors into her job. But Chloe assures me that a slice or two won't be missed. And I haven't had a good cake in a long time, so, well, why not. I can indulge. I cut myself a bit from the freshest and nicest-looking one, the blueberry cheesecake. And I just sit down and eat there while Chloe gets her things. When Chloe gets back to the kitchen, she catches me just as I finish off my slice of the blueberry and all the white frosting. I lift up my glass to slowly sip some coke, staring intently at her eyes as I do so, then after I set down the glass, I lick off the frosting from my lips. "All set?" Turn Chloe On: 2d6+2 12
|
|
#
?
Sep 11, 2013 17:18
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 25, 2024 01:09 |
|
|
 XP: 2 | Harm: 0 | Conditions: Psychopath | Location: Waste Reclamation Oh, I’m not alone. Classmate and test subject designate Jeremie Tylers is here. I have been looking for another opportunity to apply a different set of stimulus to this strapping specimen, and well here it is. I recompose myself and step out of the stall to take up position at sink adjacent to him. Ah yes, the hand washing ritual. I must not forget that part for the sake of appearances. Now I’m not quite sure as to the exact definition of the terms Jeremie accusingly throws at me. I’ve never heard of the term “bulimic” before now. So let’s just ignore that one. The other one, “homo”, I have crossed before, but I’m afraid the exact connotation of the word escapes me. It’s something about two males being together or something. And noting Jeremie’s invectiveness in its use, there seems to be an implied negative implication there? Oh, humans and their silly genders! There are just too many pointless restrictions and taboos in which to keep track. It’s a needlessly complicated biological flaw in the species itself. Thank the One Computer that my people don’t suffer from it. Well as it stands, Jeremie and I are alone and together at the moment, so doesn’t that mean we could become homo any moment, or maybe we are already homo right now? There is only one way to find out. I tilt my head at him curiously and offer up an inviting smile. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Jeremie. What do we homos do?“ I ask earnestly. My skin grows flushed as my body temperature increases by a whole degree. I always have some excess heat exhaust directly following the expulsion of the first pass. After wetting some paper towel acquired from the dispenser, I undo the collar of my shirt and apply the cold compress to my neck in a gentle dabbing-like fashion, all the while measuring the subject’s response. Turn Them On: 2d6+1 7 OOC: Plenty of free stalls Mr. Tylers. Guy is professionally trained to be discreet. iceyman fucked around with this message at 02:14 on Sep 12, 2013 |
|
#
?
Sep 11, 2013 21:53
|
|